


Lulu

by skamsnake



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Bipolar Disorder, Blackouts, Chemsex (sexualized drug use), Depression, Dubious Consent, Eliott is a rentboy, Eliott is healing, Eliott is so gone, Excessive Drinking, Flirting, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Assault, Internalized Homophobia, Lulu is a transwoman, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Prescription Drug Abuse, Prostitution, Rating May Change, Sexual Content, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Suicidal Thoughts, Trans Female Character, Transphobia, Trauma, accidental roommates, and a sexworker, don't worry Eliott will learn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-01-04 16:27:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18347387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skamsnake/pseuds/skamsnake
Summary: Eliott lets the smoke fill his lungs and the air around them before he looks up again, the smaller boy still smiling down at him. He looks like a kid dressing up in his big sister’s clothes, heels three inches too high and a black faux patent leather skirt three inches too short. A thin pair of mesh tights that doesn’t do much to cover up his pale thighs. The yellow wig adding a nice innocent touch to his look, like a boy who’s watched one too many prostitute-turned-princess movies. The boy still smiles.“I’m Lulu, by the way”Or, a strangers-to-friends-to-lovers AU, in which Eliott saves Lulu and she saves him right back.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first AU for elu yay!
> 
> This fic is inspired by a few different things, most importantly the short film [Tonight It's Me](https://vimeo.com/111769533) which I absolutely adore, but also some parts of Rocco Fasano's [Shirley and Baby](https://www.imdb.com/videoplayer/vi3949705241) with a mess of references to stuff from Guardians of the Galaxy, Moulin Rouge, Calvin Banks (because reasons) and canon lol.
> 
> Lulu is a non-op transwoman, and I was a little hesitant tagging it Eliott/Lucas since in canon Lucas is (as far as we know) a cis man. However, Lulu isn't an entirely original character either and her name was Lucas in the past (this will be mentioned in the fic as well), so I decided to tag it Eliott/Lucas for reference. In the beginning of the fic, Eliott exhibits transphobic behavior and will also refer to Lulu as 'he', 'the boy' etc. Don't worry, he will get wiser in time.  
> If you have any questions or concerns regarding this or anything else in the fic, please don't hesitate to reach out.
> 
> If you’d like visuals for this fic, this is how I imagine [Lulu](https://skamsnake.tumblr.com/post/185541343822/hey-you-i-really-really-dont-wanna-annoy-you) and [Eliott](https://skamsnake.tumblr.com/post/187585685032/ch-5-of-lulu-is-up) in this verse.
> 
> I really hope you'll enjoy this story, and I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter trigger warnings (minor) in endnotes.

***

 

Eliott squeezes his eyes shut, spits and swallows the remaining salty bitterness, feeling it sting all the way down his throat as he wipes off his face with the back of his hand.

“And here’s the extra twenty for the facial” he faintly registers from one of the mouths above him, collecting the crumpled notes strewn across the cobbled stone next to him, trying not to focus too much on the stench that hits him as he reaches over to pick up a stray note from the small puddle next to where he’s kneeling.

“Fuck, we should put this on twitter, man!” someone laughs at his phone and Eliott turns the flat bill of his snapback around to the front and pulls his hood up over it, silently appreciating the slight cover it provides.

Why straight men are obsessed with fags he’ll never understand, but somehow he’s managed to make the most of it, taking his business from the overrun woods of Bois de Bologne to the 5 star hotel lobby restrooms in the city center and the bustling streets of Marais, picking up rich guys and party groups who are telling themselves that having their one gay adventure with a rentboy from the area is more wholesome. Thus paying _more_.

Eliott pushes himself up off the ground to the fading sound of drunken cheering and padding of backs as the group of guys flee the back alley he’s currently finding himself in, the tall buildings of Place Des Vognes rising high above him, one of them hosting the infamous creation of ‘Les Miserables’, ruthlessly reminding him that really he should consider himself lucky.

At least he comes here _willingly_ he chuckles humorlessly, cursing himself for forgetting to tell them to tag him in the damn video. It’s good PR, after all.

It’s not like he _has_ to do this. Mika would let him crash on his couch if he needed it, like he did way back when Eliott was finally kicked out from home. He’d even offered to ask about possible job openings at the club where he’s working. Eliott wouldn’t let him, of course.

He was never much of a dancer anyway.

He likes it this way. Quick and dirty. At least that’s what he tells himself as he checks his phone for new dm’s and makes his way back out on the street on shaky legs. What he tells himself as he makes eye contact with his next client.

 _This_. This, he knows how to do, he thinks when he nods the older client over, biting his lip and batting his lashes suggestively, a rough hand coming up to his chin, lifting it a bit as he leans in.

“Car” the customer’s bearded lips speaks wetly into his ear, the crowd moving past them unaware. Not that they would care anyway.

Eliott isn’t small but the client is much bigger than him and he might be many things, but he isn’t fucking stupid.

“I only do public” he shrugs, about to pull away when the hand moves from his chin to his throat, squeezing hard.

“Car” the man repeats, a feigned smile on his face to distract potential curious glances from passersby as his other hand comes up to Eliott’s side, sliding under his old leather jacket and hoodie to the hem of his worn out t-shirt and Eliott doesn’t miss the pointed tip of a blade peeking out from the guy’s sleeve, brushing against his skin.

He nods. A shiver running down his spine as the man releases the grip around his throat and pulls him with, pretending to be holding his hand as they make their way down the street, flooded with happy people trying to stay warm in the cold, early spring air coloured by smoke and yellow light.

 

**

 

“Let me keep my phone at least?”

He doesn’t say please. Not because he’s opposed to begging. In fact it’s a highly refined skill of his, but he’s also a fast learner. And begging triggers sadists.

His jaw and throat are sore and his nose still bleeding a little from having his face smashed into the dashboard repeatedly. But he’s alive. Which he feels painfully, as he’s shoved out of the moving car, his shoulder colliding with the curb in full force. _Sans phone._

He crawls up on the pavement, spits and wipes his face with the hem of his t-shirt, looks at the pink stain his busted lip leaves there. He might as well call it a night, then. Dried blood and old cum stains aren’t exactly good for business.

He searches his pockets, attempting to light up the joint he’d kept safe in his inner pocket, only to realize the fucker took his lighter too.

He grunts and brushes off his tattooed knee where it’s peeking out through his ripped jeans and gets up, finding some sort of resolve in the fact that the universe has had plenty of chances to kill him off, if it really wanted him dead.

It’s started raining. Heavy drops washing his face clean and soaking through his clothes and shoes in the proces as he walks the small distance to his old hideout, thankful the client happened to ‘drop him off’ within walking distance to Le Petit Ceinture. Shivering with the cold, he picks the lock and makes his way through the old, fairytale-like garden into the well-known darkness of the tunnel he’d called his home more than once when things were really rough at home, fingers trembling as he searches the ground hoping to find an old lighter left there, so he can light up the fucking joint. It’s ridiculous really, but right now it feels like it’s all he’s got.

 _Nothing_.

He’s pissed. Not so much because of the injuries. Somehow he’s learned to live with those, learned to love his scars. _Hazards of the job._ Considers them a map of sorts, like fellow travellers, witnesses to his life and all the wrong choices he’s made through time. No, he’s pissed because the _cuntface_ had the audacity to fucking rob him too. Especially on a night like this. He’d been on a _roll_ before that dick turned up.

He always feels like a failure whenever he finds himself back here. Still, there’s a familiarity and a sense of security in the abandoned tracks of the old railway, going round and round in circles, leading to nowhere in particular but at least they keep going. Keep you moving. It’s when you stop or derail, the real trouble begins.

Finding the cardboard boxes and the old sleeping bag he’d left tucked away behind one of the pillars for others to use when he wasn’t, he prepares to settle in for the night, the damp blunt still in hand.

“You need a light?”

He jumps, startled at the sound of a voice coming from someone he hadn’t even noticed walking up behind him. Eliott turns around and the first thing he sees is the metallic silver of heels on the ground in front of him. He looks up. The voice is light and soft and if it wasn’t for the fact that it came from bubblegum pink lips and a yellow wig accompanied by a strong jawline, he might think it was female. _A goddamn tranny. Perfect._

“Light?” the boy repeats, smiling down at him, holding a lighter in his stretched out hand like a torch, his other small hand sheltering the fragile flame. He looks way too young to be out here in the dark.

“What’s your name?” he asks, and Eliott sends him a look of indifference and shrugs, leaning in to the flame to light up.

Eliott lets the smoke fill his lungs and the air around them before he looks up again, the smaller boy still smiling down at him. He looks like a kid dressing up in his big sister’s clothes, heels three inches too high and a black faux patent leather skirt three inches too short. A thin pair of mesh tights that doesn’t do much to cover up his pale thighs. The yellow wig adding a nice innocent touch to his look, like a boy who’s watched one too many prostitute-turned-princess movies. The boy still smiles.

“I’m Lulu, by the way”

 

**

 

“You’re really not gonna tell me your name?” the boy asks, smoke seeping from his pink lips as he speaks, before handing back the joint Eliott had offered him earlier as a thank you.

“Aren’t you a little young to be out here on your own?” Eliott just asks in response, pulling down his hood and turning the flat bill of his snapback round to the back.

“Aren’t you a little old to be wearing a snapback?” the boy bites back, punching a laugh from Eliott and he can tell it’s not the first time he’s been asked about his age, hell it’s probably even a frequent pick-up line in this corner of the industry.

They sit in silence for a while, passing the joint between them, until Eliott starts to get uncomfortable under the boy’s insistent gaze.

“Thanks” he just nods, hoping the boy will take a hint.

“No problem” he smiles and moves to get on his feet, and for a moment Eliott feels the well-known cold creep up his spine at the thought of being left alone in the dark again, but he knows it’ll pass. He’ll get used to it, he always does.

“So.. should we go?” the boy blinks at him, almost impatiently.

“We?” Eliott frowns.

“Yes, _we?_ I could use someone to walk me home, and it doesn’t look like you’ve got something better to do?”

Eliott chuckles amused, stubbing out the joint on the ground next to him. Confused he shakes his head slightly, considers his options for a moment. He’s got no money, _cuntface_ from earlier had made sure of that. Deep down he knows he only has himself to blame for it, though. It’s always like this when he goes on long benders. He’ll blow whatever he makes each night on expensive hotel suites, booze and blow, sometimes on company if he needs it to sleep, usually picking up his next client at the fancy five star hotel breakfast buffet in the morning, because those places are always flooded with filthy rich pervs. Then on to repeat the whole thing all over again, until he runs out of either energy or luck. Clearly he ran out of both tonight, and now he doesn’t even have his phone to call Mika.

“You can borrow my phone once you walked me home” the boy bargains as if reading his mind, “And I have weed” he continues, and Eliott shouldn’t be surprised. _A hustler knows a hustler when he sees one._

Eliott looks up at the boy and shrugs, pushing himself up off the ground. At least he can beat _this_ one up if he tries anything.

“Since when did Le Petit become a pick up spot?” Eliott asks as they make their way back down the old path to the gate, the boy balancing playfully along the abandoned tracks.

“Careful, those can get slippery” Eliott nods down at the tracks, earning himself nothing but an eye roll in return.

“I’m not working tonight” the boy replies, his heels clinking hollowly against the wet metal underneath his feet, arms spread eagle in mock protest. “It’s actually pretty romantic here, don’t you think? In daylight at least”

“Oh sorry, I just assumed-“

“Well you’re not wro- _ooh_ ” the boy’s heel slips and in the next moment he falls sideways, crashing heavily into him, Eliott’s hands quickly coming up by reflex to grab the boy’s small shoulders, arms wrapped around him to prevent the fall, the boy’s eyes blown wide in surprise when Eliott’s gaze meets them. Maybe lingering a little too long.

 _“Putain”_ the boy pushes himself up and off of Eliott, awkwardly leaning down towards his foot on shaky legs. “Ugh, I broke my heel. And probably my ankle”

“Let me have a look” Eliott sighs and kneels down, taking a hold of the mesh covered calf, and the boy flinches when Eliott touches his ankle gently, carefully removing the shoe.

“Can you move your toes?” he asks and the boy sighs heavily above him but wiggles his toes, arms crossed in defence.

“Good” Eliott chuckles in amusement “You know, I told you-“

“Stop yelling”

“I’m not yelling? I just said-“

“Shh!”

“But I just-“

“Shhhhhh!”

“Okay, okay!” Eliott sighs and resigns, slowly letting go of the foot, “It’s not broken but you’re not walking home on it either”

“What? No, it’s fine. I’ll just- _fuck_ ” the boy grimaces as he tries to lean on the foot to remove the other shoe, hands reluctantly grabbing at Eliott’s jacket for support.

They stand there in awkward silence for a moment until Eliott sighs and rolls his eyes, turning around and crouching down, his hands reaching back behind him.

“Here, hop on” he offers, waiting for the boy to climb up his back.

There’s a slight pause, a silence that has Eliott wondering what kind of offers this boy usually gets and why in the world he would trust someone like Eliott, but eventually the boy sighs and leans in to grab at his shoulders, speaking with barely hidden irritation, maybe more to himself than anything else.

“You’ve got to be kidding me”

 

 **

 

 

 

 

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW's: implied/referenced assault, mentions of blood, offensive language


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eliott and Lulu get to know each other a little bit better and Eliott is left with a choice to make.
> 
> Btw, this chapter features a few references to Guardians of the Galaxy, most importantly to Rocket Racoon’s soulmate Lylla the otter as well as a scene with the character Yondu (you don’t need to know these to read the chapter lol)
> 
> Hope you’ll enjoy <3

**

 

“What do you mean _illogical?_! It’s the most iconic scene in the entire movie, how can you _not_ love it?!”

Eliott’s trying not to yell too loud, trying not to throw a fit and throw the boy off his back in the proces. They’ve been walking for at least half an hour and Eliott kind of can’t feel his arms anymore, numb from the weight of the pressure where they’re tucked under the boy’s skirt, but he pushes through and continues, too distracted from trying to convince the boy that the sequel to Guardians of the Galaxy is by no means the better one of the movies to even remember where he’s going.

“It just doesn’t make any sense!” the boy laughs into his ear, his arms wrapped tight around Eliott’s neck because he’d asked him to, the closer they are the easier it is to carry him. “How can he suddenly say _We Are_ when all he’s said the entire fucking movie is _I am Groot?!”_

“You’re unbelievable!” Eliott shouts, outraged by the boy’s indifference to the loss he and surely everyone else suffered watching that particular scene.

“All I’m saying is-“

“Shut up!”

“I’m just trying to-“

“Shut _uuup_!” Eliott’s shouting turns into a laugh as he realises how the roles from earlier are reversed all of a sudden.

“Jesus calm down, what are you now, _Rocket_?” the boy chuckles, his breath warm on Eliott’s neck.

“And what does that make you, _Yondu_?” Eliott snorts, but can’t help but smile at the mental image of a talking racoon carrying a blue-skinned beast three times his size on his back.

“Right, here” the boy points and Eliott isn’t exactly sure if he’s referring to their talk now or the direction he’s walking, but he makes a right anyway and walks down the street, still cursing his luck in finally finding another person sharing his passion for the Guardians, only to realize it’s someone who’s completely missed the point and disagrees with him on literally everything that matters.

 _“_ This is me” the boy points at and old, heavy wooden door, mustard yellow paint chipping off it, and Eliott is relieved and disappointed in equal measure as he realizes they must have finally made it to their destination.

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to carry me up five flights of stairs now” the boy laughs and Eliott can tell he’s joking, but something inside him doesn’t really want to let go, doesn’t really want the night to end just yet, so he shifts his weight forward and releases an arm from under the boy, moving round the front to tug at his leg, pulling a surprised whine from the boy as he pulls him over in a swift move to carry in his arms instead.

The boy looks delighted, batting his lashes exaggeratedly, clearly comfortable playing the role of the damsel in distress rescued by a knight in shining armor, and even if Eliott is as far from a knight as one could be, it still makes him feel a little taller, a little stronger, when he pushes the heavy door open with his back, the boy’s arms hooked tight around his neck.

He wasn’t kidding about the five flights of stairs, though, and Eliott’s legs immediately start to shake after the first few steps up, breaths coming out in short huffs, and he decides that the burning sensation he feels in his cheeks and the flush spreading up his neck is purely from exhaustion and has nothing to do with the way the boy is staring up at him.        

“Thanks, Rocket” the boy tilts his head and smiles when Eliott finally reaches the fifth floor and puts him down carefully, chest heaving with the effort of trying to catch his breath without sounding pathetic.

“ _Rocket_ ” he chuckles breathlessly, rubbing at the sore muscles of his forearms and hands.

“Well, since you not telling me your _real_ name, what am I supposed to call you?” the boy shrugs, searching a small pink purse for what Eliott guesses is the key.  

They’re all the way up under the roof of the old building, probably an old attic turned into a loft apartment, and for a moment Eliott lets himself wonder what it looks like inside, what this boy’s home smells like.

“Here” he turns to hand Eliott his phone, and Eliott takes it awkwardly, not sure what he’s supposed to do with it. “I think you’ve earned your one phone call now, right?” the boy smiles, brows raised in question and Eliott’s stomach drops when he remembers he’s supposed to actually call someone.

Hesitantly he types in the number, not sure Mika would even pick up at this hour. He presses the phone to his ear, a little relieved when he hears the beep tone for the third time without anyone picking up. He shrugs and tries to hand back the phone as the boy turns to unlock the door.

“You wanna come in while you wait for them to call you back?” he asks over his shoulder, eyes coming up to meet his with a smile.

“Yeah thanks, but I should really get going…” he murmurs, running a hand through his hair.

“To where?” the boy asks softly, and even though there’s not a single trace of judgement in his voice, it still feels like he can see right through him. Eliott swallows and lowers his gaze.

“Really, it’s no problem. You’ve carried me all this way, it’s the least I can do” the boy shrugs, as if to not to put Eliott on the spot.

“Oh and I’m _Lylla_ , obviously” he disappears inside, leaving the door open and Eliott with a choice to make.

He chuckles amused and shakes his head at the inside joke and the fact that he finds himself here, at the doorstep of a complete stranger’s home, wanting to follow him inside. Not that finding himself in some stranger’s home in itself is particularly new to Eliott, it’s just rare that he actually wants to be there.

There’s a warm glow coming from inside the apartment and it smells _good_ , like lavender and freshly baked cinnamon rolls made this morning. And the boy is right too, Eliott doesn’t have anywhere better to be, the damp cardboard box and the old mouldy sleeping bag back at Le Petit Ceinture not particularly attracting right this minute. So he bites his lip and takes a hesitant step forward, the warm air inside enveloping him in a welcoming embrace as he steps through the door.

“Could you shut the door behind you?” the boy shouts, half limping half walking across the small hallway from one room to another, already changed into striped pyjama pants and a grey hoodie, _Romance_ printed in white over the chest, his hands tangled in the yellow wig in what Eliott assumes is an attempt to take it off.

Eliott closes the door behind him and hangs his leather jacket and hoodie on a coat hanger next to a large, wall-sized mirror there, making an effort to not look at himself in it. He places his shoes and snapback on a small rag rug, bright blue, pink and yellow colored cotton protecting the hardwood floor underneath it, and somehow it all makes him feel oddly at ease. _Safe_.  

“Just make yourself at home” the boy’s head peeps out from a door opening further down the hallway “I’ll be with you in a sec- what?” the boy blinks at him confused, and Eliott clears his throat, hadn’t even noticed his own mouth had fallen open, that he’s practically _staring._

“No, it’s just… your hair? It’s-” Eliott stutters, probably sounding like an idiot.

The boy’s hair, a little longer than Eliott’s but still quite short, sweeped back and away from his face, is a deep lush brown, perfectly complementing his golden skin and those bright blue eyes that Eliott can finally see now that they’re not half covered by neon yellow bangs.

“...it’s short, yes? Girls can have short hair too you know”

“That’s not what I-”

But Lulu disappears back through the door opening before Eliott gets a chance to say anything else.

Slowly, he makes his way down the narrow hallway, passing a tiny kitchen on the way not much bigger than a large closet with a big window and a small green metal table and chair squeezed in there. But it’s clean and cosy and well-used, Eliott can tell from all the little pots of green herbs sitting in the windowsill and the extensive collection of wooden chopping boards stacked onto the kitchen counter.

He walks further down the hall and stops at the entrance to a bathroom, as immaculately clean as the kitchen but even smaller in size. Still, somehow someone’s managed to shove the tiniest bathtub Eliott’s ever seen in there under the sloping wall.

“Bathtub, fancy” Eliott smiles, leaning against the doorframe as Lulu passes him and enters the tiny bathroom.

“You can say what you want, but I’d give up my right arm for that bathtub” he replies, leaning in over the sink to splash water on his face.

The phone buzzes in Eliott’s hand and when he realizes he recognizes the number, he pulls away from the door opening and leans against the wall in the hallway before answering.

“Hey it’s me, Eliott” 

“So you lost your phone again?” Mika sighs from the other end.

“No, well yeah..”

“And now you need a place to crash”

“Yeah, I don’t know..”

“I’ll leave the door unlocked. Just remember to lock it after you”

“Right, oka-“

Mika hangs up before he gets a chance to finish the sentence and Eliott takes a step back towards the bathroom, not sure what to do with himself. 

“So, any luck?” the boy asks, squeezing something out into his hands and proceeding to rub it onto his face.

Eliott takes a deep breath, and without looking at the boy he shakes his head lightly, biting his lip to hide all the thoughts running through his head.

“Well” the boy rummages around in a small straw basket “I have a clean toothbrush and a pull-out couch big enough for two people” he places a pink toothbrush on the counter next to him. “I’ll go make the bed once I’m done with my skin routine. 

“Skin routine?”

“Yes?!” he’s awarded a stern look before the boy turns his gaze back towards the mirror “Everyone should have a skin routine”

“I don’t”

“Yeah, I can tell” the boy replies dryly, blue eyes still fixed on the mirror and Eliott can’t help but laugh.

“Uhm..” he clears his throat, tapping his lower lip with a finger, flinching slightly when he accidentally taps at the bruise there. “I… I’ll pay you” he says quietly.

“Oh sweetie, you couldn’t if you wanted to” the boy tilts his head and smiles indulgently. He steps out of the bathroom and passes Eliott crossing the hall “I charge two hundred an hour” he says, disappearing into the only room Eliott hasn’t seen yet.

“I wasn’t suggesting sex!” Eliott shouts after him, shaking his head as he steps into the small bathroom.

“Sex or no sex, it’s still two hundred an hour!” he hears from across the hall and roll his eyes in fond annoyance, picking up the toothbrush, not sure when was the last time he actually brushed his teeth.

“But since you carried me all this way, consider this one on the house” the boy is back at the door, throwing a white washed out Marvel t-shirt at him. “Just say thanks.”

“Thanks” Eliott mumbles, mouthful of toothpaste. 

“And maybe like… _wash_ your face?” It sounds more like an instruction than a suggestion, the boy glancing between Eliott and the mirror before he leaves again, shouting from across the hallway “Remember to moisturize!”

Eliott spits into the sink and takes his time rinsing his mouth and splashing water onto his face, trying to gather the strength to look at his own reflection in the mirror.

He can’t, so instead he just pulls off his dirty t-shirt and jeans and leave it on the floor, putting on the Marvel t-shirt and inhaling the fresh scent of jasmine and apples as he makes his way across the hallway to the living room which also serves as a bedroom.

It’s completely dark in there when Eliott finally enters, the pull-out couch slash bed in the middle of the room made with fresh linen on the side closest to him, a line of large pillows stacked down the middle, creating what appears to be a small wall between the two sides of the bed and Eliott can’t help but smile at the installation when he slips under the duvet, shifting slightly on the bed.

“Goodnight, Rocket” the boy yawns, and Eliott tucks the soft pillow under his head and pulls the duvet tight around his shoulders, burying his nose in the light  vanilla scent coming from the linen. 

“Hey, Lylla?” Eliott whispers, almost like he’s not sure he’s got the courage to say what he’s about to.

“You didn’t moisturize, did you?” the boy sighs from somewhere behind the pillows, and Eliott has to fight back a laugh. Then, he takes a deep breath.

 “It’s uhm… It’s Eliott” he breathes out, hoping the boy doesn’t hear the tremble in his voice. “I’m Eliott”

 

**

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Here's finally another chapter from this lil universe! Sorry about the slight delay, I was writing smuttttt lol.  
> And thank you so much for the sweet comments and encouragement, they totally make my day and keep me motivated to write <3
> 
> This chapter features lyrics from the song '5 dols' by Christine and the Queens, which I absolutely adore (thank you, panshambles). I've put the translation in the end-notes. The chapter also includes a few more fun crossover-refs to both Guardians/SKAM also explained in the end-notes (I'm not even a Guardians stan myself wtf?? lol) 
> 
> Hope you'll enjoy and please let me know what you think in the comments <3

 

 ***

 

Eliott blinks against the sunlight streaming in from the window. Feeling warm and more rested than he’s felt in months, he opens his eyes to find an undefinable object hanging above his head. Small but still big enough, he assesses, to do considerable damage if it fell down on his face, green and brown colors mixing in his vision still blurred from sleep, and it takes him longer than it should to realize it’s a plant. And not one of those withered weeds growing out of the concrete under the bridge of Le Petit Ceinture. An actual plant in a proper pot, fixed to the ceiling above in a macramé hanger, a trailing succulent cascading down the sides of it almost like it’s trying to reach out and touch him.

He rubs his eyes and yawns, still not really sure where he is. A feeling too familiar to really elicit fear anymore.

He turns his head to the side, finding a small makeshift bedside table made from an old low wooden stool, heavy books stacked on it on either side to keep it in balance, a large pink crystal of sorts in the middle that Eliott feels like he should know the name of. His gaze wanders over the walls to the other side of the room finding a dusty rose coloured dresser next to an old white piano there, the wall above it covered in drawings of all his favorite Marvel characters, all somewhat unfinished, missing an arm or a leg or even eyes or a mouth. Eliott’s eyes settles on a particularly detailed one of baby Groot in midst of growing out one of his branching arms, yesterday night’s events slowly coming back to him. The client, Le Petit Ceinture, _Lulu_ The walk back to the apartment and the feeling he’d had stepping inside. Calm. Safe.

The feeling is gone now, and so would Eliott be if he’d had any say in it. If he hadn’t been so goddamn tired last night, this would be when he’d usually sneak out, taking his payment and any other cash or visible valuables with him.

He stretches out an arm, searching for his clothes on the floor, groaning inwardly when he remembers he’d left it in the goddamn bathroom. Turning his head to the other side, he finds a familiar wall of pillows behind him, a yellow sticky note stuck to one of them.

The note just says “Food in kitchen” along with a drawing of a sleeping Rocket, tiny z’s slipping out of the racoon’s open mouth from where he’s drooling onto a pillow and Eliott can’t help but smile, a warm unfamiliar feeling spreading through his chest, much more terrifying than any other feeling he could manage when waking up some unknown place.

Eliott sighs as he realizes he’ll probably have to say a proper goodbye before leaving. Pushing himself up off the bed, he notices the sweet smell coming from somewhere in the apartment, _cinnamon maybe_ , his stomach suddenly growling with hunger, not sure when was the last time he ate. He follows the smell and as he walks down the hallway he starts noticing music too.

He stops by the bathroom to get his clothes but it isn’t there, so he continues his search in just boxers and that worn Marvel t-shirt the boy had thrown at him. Following the sound down towards the kitchen he realizes it isn’t just music he’s hearing. It’s singing too.

 _Et de l'ombre à la lumière_  
Quand ils croient t'avoir mise à terre  
_Tu leur donnes 5 dols, baby blues, 5 dols, baby_  
_5 dols, baby blues, 5 dols, baby_

The boy doesn’t notice him at first. He’s got his back turned to the door, kneading a dough as he sings at the top of his lungs, half limping half dancing in grey sweatpants and a thin pastel yellow tank top, and Eliott can’t help but notice the bright pink strap underneath, sliding off of his shoulder as he does another turn and suddenly faces him.

The boy freezes, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights but he keeps singing, _C'est évident, abusé, Moi j'avais parié sur toi, baby,_ almost like he can’t bring himself to stop mid-sentence and Eliott smiles, raising an eyebrow at him.

A moment of silence passes between them and then the boy shrugs and continues singing, _Et je ferais tout pour te plaire, Je te donne 5 dols, baby blue, 5 dols, baby_ , turning around as he sways towards the stowe, stirring in a pan on there.

Eliott walks over to the counter and reaches for one from the first batch of cinnamon rolls fresh out of the oven, but the boy is faster and slaps his hand away.

“It needs to rest first!” he scolds, almost looks offended “for optimal texture and flavor” he explains, gesturing annoyed at the green metal table set with small hand painted plates and cups, each one more colorful than the next, neither of them matching, along with two glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice and a classic chambord coffee press.

“Take a seat” the boy instructs, tasting whatever he’s got cooking in the pan, hissing when he burns his lip on the food.

Eliott sits down at the table and pours himself a cup of coffee, letting himself enjoy the music and the smell in the kitchen, the soft hums coming from the boy as he makes his way to the table with a pan full of what turns out to be scrambled eggs.

“One tablespoon of sour cream” the boy says, scooping the food onto Eliott’s plate “that’s the secret ingredient” he smiles, watching Eliott closely as he takes a bite, humming deliberately as if he’d have to fake it. He doesn’t, of course. It tastes fucking delicious.

“So you’re big on cinnamon huh” he mumbles with his mouth full later, when Lulu finally shows mercy on him and lets Eliott have one of the rolls, feeling like he’d waited forever for this moment. Probably more like fifteen minutes.

The boy frowns, looking confused for a moment until he seems to realise what Eliott’s referring to.

“Oh the rolls, right. _Cardamom_ , you mean” he gestures at the bread in his hand. “Close enough” he shrugs and smiles, as if to not embarrass Eliott.

They sit like this and eat together for a while, the silence surprisingly comfortable, until Eliott starts to feel the cool air brush against his skin, the hair on his legs standing on end.

“Uhm.. thanks for all of this” Eliott wipes his mouth and shivers slightly, rubbing his hand on his thigh and down his leg to show he has a legitimate reason to move things along “So uhm… my clothes?” he asks carefully.

“Oh right, sorry I forgot! I went to the laundromat this morning” he shoots up from his seat, “I’ll go and put it in the dryer” he finishes his glass of juice and rushes towards the doorway, disappearing out through it, still limping slightly.

“Oh, and Eliott?” his head pops in again and Eliott nods, “Take my shirt if you get cold doing the dishes” he points to the grey _Romance_ shirt hanging over the back of his chair, then gestures suggestively at the plates and cups and then at the sink before disappearing again and Eliott chuckles in response to the not-so-subtle instruction.

“Okay” he smiles, getting up to bring the plates to the sink, turning on the faucet.

“Oh, and Eliott?” Lulu pops back in and interrupts him, putting on a leopard print faux fur coat and sneakers with pink laces.

“Yes?” Eliott shuts off the water and turns around towards the door opening.

“The dryer isn’t done the next couple of hours, so I suggest we spend the time wisely. I’ve got a freshly made illegal copy of _Endgame_ on my laptop” the boy smirks and disappears again and Eliott turns the water back on, has to bite his lip to not let out an over-excited yelp at the prospect of watching this year’s most anticipated movie before it’s even premiered in France.

“Oh, and Eliott?” the boy pops back in.

“Yes?!” Eliott sighs in fond annoyance and shuts off the water once again.

“A guy named Mika says hi” he wiggles his phone at Eliott “he also said to tell you you’re rude for letting him sleep all night with the door unlocked”

Eliott closes his eyes, wants to curl in on himself for a moment, embarrassed at being called out for his little white lie last night, but the way the boy smiles at him before disappearing yet again has him feeling more welcome than he remembers ever having felt before.

 

**

 

They end up watching Endgame twice and both Guardians movies in quick succession to discuss and compare iconic scenes and compete reciting their favorite quotes, and Eliott can’t remember the last time he’s laughed this much.

“I can’t believe you didn’t get the Jackson Pollock joke?!” Eliott laughs, shaking his head at the boy from where he’s seated on his side of the pull-out-couch-slash-bed, still unmade from this morning, curled up in the sheets and Lulu’s _Romance_ shirt.

“I _did_ get it! That’s not what I said!” the boy shouts, “but how the hell would _Rocket_ know a 40’s impressionist painter from Earth?! He doesn’t even know what a _racoon_ is!”

“God, always the critic huh” Eliott sighs in fond annoyance.

“Sorry I can’t just ignore all common logic like you, _trash panda_ ” the boy mumbles, turning away as if he’s going to pretend he didn’t say, clearly still hoping Eliott heard.

“What did you say?!” Eliott says outraged, trying to suppress a laugh, now fully turned towards Lulu, “You’re unbelievable!”

“I’m unbelievable?” the boy shouts, indignated “ _I’m_ unbelievable?! I’ll have you know-“

Eliott he throws a pillow at the boy’s face, hitting him right on the nose and for a moment the boy looks like he’s in shock. Then, he starts laughing too.

“Oh no you didn’t!” the boy threatens, hair messy like an angry hedgehog, picking up the pillow at his side and launching it at Eliott, hitting him repeatedly with it as he makes his way across his side of the bed to Eliott, who lets himself push over and down onto the bed, throwing his arms up in mock defence, laughing so hard it almost hurts as the boy climbs on top of him, still hitting him playfully with the soft pillow.

The boy hovers over him, arms raised to deliver that final blow, when Eliott seizes the opportunity, his hands shooting up in a ruthless tickle, the boy’s attack crumbling with heavy giggles as he falls flat on top of him, hands grabbing at Eliott’s wrists and pinning them above his head, hips working to hold him down and suddenly Eliott feels hot all over.  

The boy seems to notice too, because he stills on top of Eliott, still panting from the effort, keeping Eliott’s wrists in a tight grip.

“Eliott?” Lulu whispers breathlessly, looking down at him, his skin glowing in the fading daylight and Eliott inhales sharply, the soft vanilla scent from the pillows around him filling his nostrils, feeling the sudden weight of the moment, the weight of the boy’s body on top of his, firm and warm, pressing down onto him.

“Yes?” he asks, eyes locked on Lulu’s.

“I’m hungry” Lulu grins and jumps off of him and out onto the floor, leaving Eliott breathless on the bed.

“Let’s go and get some take away, you can grab a pair of sweatpants in the dresser, we’ll get your clothes on our way back” he hears the boy shout from the hallway and forces himself to get up too.

Still a little shaky, Eliott walks over to the dresser and pulls out the top drawer filled with colorful, lacey underwear and a pink box with a white floral pattern, _Lulu’s Love Box_ neatly printed on the lid. A little flustered, he shuts the drawer quickly and opens the second one instead, relieved to find nothing but an unsexy stack of sweatpants there. He picks a pair of black ones and puts them on, a little short on his calves but comfortable enough, walking to the bathroom where the boy is putting on make-up.

“So…” Eliott runs a hand through his hair, leaning against the doorframe, “Why do you like dressing up as a girl?”

“I _am_ a girl” Lulu side-eyes him, then resumes drawing up his lips.

“You have a dick” Eliott shrugs and smiles, “You’re a boy”

“No” Lulu corrects him and sighs, picking up the mascara. “ _You’re_ a dick... _And_ you’re a boy” he says and a silence falls between.

“Okay” Eliott raises his hands in resignation. “Why do you like being a girl?” he asks and Lulu turns towards him, brows raised in confusion.

“Why do you like being a boy?”

“I don’t _like_ being a boy, I just am-“ he stops himself, and Lulu shoots him a look as if to say _See?_ visibly sending him an eye roll before resuming his, _her_ , make-up routine.

 

**

 

Eliott’s seated on top of one of the dryers, his feet swinging over the edge, enjoying the 80’s soundtrack coming from the speakers at the laundromat and the soft scent of Lulu’s detergent mixing with the delicious smell coming from the box of tofu pad thai he, _she_ , had insisted he’d try, waiting next to him.

There’s an uptight middle-aged woman glaring at them as Lulu folds the laundry next to him in that faux leopard fur coat and a pink and blue beanie, but Lulu just smiles back with a _“_ I love your glasses, really brings out your eyes!” and the woman mumbles an awkward _“thank you”_ and turns back to her own laundry.

Lulu hands Eliott his jeans and t-shirt, and he takes it hesitantly, last night’s events creeping back like a ghost of a past still too recent to erase from memory, even if he wants to.

“You know…” Lulu says, as they make their way back to the apartment, arms full of clean laundry and food, “Sometimes it’s easier if you talk about it?” nodding at the clothes in Eliott’s hands, now free from proof that anything bad had happened.

“Most times it’s easier if you don't, though” Eliott says quietly and shrugs, silently appreciating that Lulu doesn’t push him any further.

They eat and talk and laugh and Eliott can’t remember the last time he had food this good, _well this morning maybe_ , or the last time he felt this full. Can’t remember the last time he’d felt this happy, stealing glances, and the occasional shrimp, whenever Lulu looks away.

“Fuck, we need to take out the trash” Lulu sighs, leaning back against the pillows.

“You have no intention of getting up do you?” Eliott chuckles, still exhausted from eating and laughing.

“You’re right, zero intention” Lulu smiles and yawns.

“Okay, I’ll do it” Eliott looks at her, “If you play me something” he gestures at the piano.

Lulu sighs but Eliott can tell she’s pleased, not sure if it’s just at the relief of not having to take out the trash herself or if it’s because he asked about the piano.

“Do you play yourself?” she asks as she sits down at the piano.

“I used to” Eliott shrugs, “Haven’t since I moved out. I do play a mean Star Wars theme”

“Star Wars my _god_ ” she rolls her eyes and turns her back to him, “Let’s stick to _one_ universe, shall we?” she says and starts playing the first chords of _I’m not in love_ and for a moment Eliott wonders how she could know it’s one of Eliott’s favorite scenes from the Guardians.

And maybe it’s completely by coincidence or maybe it’s the memory of that very scene where Starlord lost his mother at the age of 8 and the familiarity of it to his own childhood, or maybe it’s just the soft sound of Lulu’s voice and the way she replaces the whispering ‘ _big boys don’t cry’_ with a _do._ Whatever it is, it’s making Eliott’s chest tighten and tears press behind his eyes, and he’s not liking it.

“So…” he blinks and clears his throat when Lulu’s done playing, “you never finish your drawings huh?” he points at the wall above the piano as if he’s not ready for her to turn around.

“You know...” she sighs looking up at the drawings, her eyes seemingly catching on a particular one of Wonder Woman, “...for someone who’s asked almost daily if they’re complete-” she continues without looking away from the drawings, “It can be pretty hard to see the beauty in the unfinished” she shrugs and turns around.

“This is me, trying to appreciate the process” she shrugs, and before Eliott can say anything in return she adds with a smile “Now I believe you promised to take out the trash, panda”

Eliott smiles and shakes his head, picking up take out boxes and bags. For some reason the five flights of stairs seems easier with every trip he makes up them.

“It’s pretty late and I have work tomorrow” Lulu shouts over water running and Eliott’s stomach drops, not sure if the sudden anxiety is caused by the fact the he has to leave soon, or the feeling that he doesn’t want to. Slowly, he walks towards the bathroom.

“You can stay if you want. On one condition” Lulu smiles.

 

“Okay I’ve moisturized now, jeez!” Eliott sighs heavily ten minutes later when he finally enters the bedroom-slash-living room after completing the full skin routine Lulu had ordered, still careful not to look at himself in the mirror.

“So, if you make two hundred an hour...” he says as he makes his way to the bed, kicking off the sweatpants, noticing how his skin is annoyingly smooth and fresh but also noticing how the wall of pillows down the middle of the bed seems to have vanished, “How come your tub isn’t bigger?” he teases.

“Don’t you dare trash talk my tub” Lulu shoots back, but Eliott can hear the smile on her lips “...and also, I’m saving up for something” she doesn’t explain further and Eliott doesn’t ask.

“Goodnight, Rocket” she breathes out.

“Goodnight, Lylla” he breathes in.

 

**

 

Eliott blinks against the sunlight streaming in through the window, smiling as he realizes where he is and the fact that he doesn’t immediately feel like running away. In fact, he could get used to this.

He closes his eyes again, his body still sleep-warm and relaxed, faintly registering the familiar blunt pressure in his boxers. He shifts slightly on the bed, suddenly realizing he’s got another sleep-warm body pressed up against his back, a motionless arm tucked around his waist and Eliott stills for a moment, looks around careful not to startle Lulu awake.

Realizing he’s on Lulu’s side of the bed, not sure how or when he’s made made it all the way over there, he tries to move a little but Lulu has him in a tight grip and that’s when he feels it. The slow grinding movement of her hips against his thigh.

Eliott bites his lip, not sure what to do. Just knows, that Lulu isn’t awake judging from her heavy breathing against his back, and that he probably shouldn't take advantage of the situation.

He moves his hand down to where her arm is resting on his stomach, wraps his hand around hers to lift it gently and that’s when he feels a particular deliberate grind against his thigh, a quiet moan escaping her lips before her body freezes completely.

Slowly he turns around to find Lulu looking up at him, wide-eyed and confused, a blush quickly spreading across her cheeks as she realizes what’s going on and Eliott wants to say something but she turns away quickly, almost curling in on herself at the edge of the bed as far away from Eliott as possible.

“Hey..” he scoots over, putting a hand on her shoulder and she winces slightly but then seem to relax under his touch. He waits until he can feel her breath calming down too.

“I don’t usually-“ she interrupts herself, and Eliott can tell she’s embarrassed.

“Me neither” he smiles and shuffles closer to her, putting his arm around her and he can feel her leaning into the touch, can feel her skin warm against his chest and the sweet scent of apples and elderflower from where his nose is buried in her hair, and Eliott can’t help but draw small circles on her shoulder, then further down her arm, over her hip and wrist to where her hand is tucked in between her legs. He lets his fingers wander from her hand and up to the lining of her floral printed pyjama pants.

“Not inside” she whispers, letting out a shaky exhale, and Eliott moves his hand down to hers, to let her guide it to where she wants it.

Lulu covers his hand with hers, pressing her palm flat against the back of his hand, his own palm flattening against the hardness under the soft pyjama pants, a shiver running through her body as her breaths quicken and Eliott just lies there, taking in the scent of her hair and the softness of her skin against his cheek as he strokes gently against the fabric, her hips pushing forward in shallow thrusts against his hand as she squeezes his wrist tightly, her breaths coming out in small stutters until she hides her face in the pillows and whimpers quietly, and it’s simultaneously the faintest and most profound sound Eliott’s ever heard, a warm sensation spreading under his hand where a small wet patch is forming there.

Eliott just wants to stay there, in that moment, breathing in Lulu. And that _terrifies_ him. An overwhelming sense of fear quickly creeping in on him, and it feels like he’s suffocating with sobs threatening to spill out of his mouth.

“So uhm… are we even now?” he jokes, panicking. Not realizing the weight of his words until Lulu freezes completely next to him, pushing his hand away.

“Get out” she says, still turned away from Eliott.

“What?” Eliott frowns, pushing himself up on his elbow to better see her. She turns towards him, eyes filled with tears.

“You heard me. Get out. Get the fuck out!”

 

***

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations of '5 dols' lyrics:
> 
> And from the shade to the light  
> When they think you have landed  
> You give them 5 dollars, baby blues, 5 dollars, baby  
> 5 dollars, baby blues, 5 dollars, baby
> 
> It's obvious, abused, I bet on you, baby  
> And I would do anything to please you, I give you 5 dollars, baby blue, 5 dollars, baby
> 
> __
> 
> Jackson Pollock ref: Starlord remarks, when talking about how much of a mess his own ship is: "Under a blacklight this place looks like a Jackson Pollock painting" not-so-subtly hinting at having ejaculated all over it LOL


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg, this took me FOREVER! Sorry to anyone who was waiting for an update <3  
> This was a tough one to write, ngl. Please notice that tags have updated and be cautious. Trigger warnings in endnotes.
> 
> A huge thank you to my cheeky pocket imps, NeonViolet and Panshambles, and my tumblr angel hannahbanana8816 for endless support and encouragement, LOVE YOU UWUUUU
> 
> Glossary:  
> P&P: Party & Play, slang for chemsex (sexualized drug use)  
> Ice: meth amphetamine

***

 

_Get the fuck out._

 

Eliott can still feel the words sting in his ears, burn in his chest, as he tumbles out of the apartment and down the five flights of stairs he feels like he knows so well by now and out on the bustling street, confused and embarrassed and still a little horny, if he’s honest.

It’s not like it’s a first. Not like he hasn’t had those words said to him before, shouted at him even, but for some reason this feels different. For some reason _he_ feels different. Feels _something_ , for a change.

It’s still early. The deafening sounds of garbage trucks and roadside workers and crowded bus stops feels like a personal attack, the relentless light from a resurrected sun ricocheting off every surface, blinding him, piercing through every attempt to cover himself, cover his face, his eyes, _his raging hard on_. For a moment he even considers finding an alley to hide in, _jerk off in._  

Wouldn’t be a first either. 

Deciding against it, he takes a deep breath and elbows his way through the morning crowd, doing his best to dodge the bumping shoulders and the judging looks, keeping one goal in mind.

 

**

 

“Well if it isn’t our monthly guest!” Mika snorts from behind the bar where he’s finishing up after tonight’s shift. 

Eliott makes sure Mika can see the exaggerated eyeroll as he walks up to the counter. 

“Can I get a drink?” 

“Oh I’m sorry sir, we’re just closing up in here”

“One drink” Eliott pouts and tilts his head, “ _Please_ ”

Mika hesitates for a moment, eyeing him from behind the counter like some kind of exhausted parent, then sighs and picks up a bottle of the cheapest vodka they have.

“It’s seven in the morning, E” he says, placing the bottle and a glass in front of him. 

Eliott fills the glass, then pushes it towards Mika and brings the entire bottle to his own lips, taking a swig from it.

“Since when did you become my mom?” he wipes his mouth.

“Since you started acting like a child” Mika shrugs and turns to pick up a towel.

“I’m pretty sure the stuff I do isn’t really appropriate for children-“

“You know what I mean” Mika interrupts him, takes a clean glass from the tray in front of him and starts drying it off.

It’s been a busy night, Eliott can tell as his gaze wanders the dimly lit room, over sticky tables and cluttered chairs, briefly catching his own fleeting reflection, warped in the once so shiny poles flanking the staged cage in the middle, now abandoned like some run-down circus, empty and used, with nothing to show for it but smudged fingerprints. 

Eliott gestures at the glass between them in invitation and Mika sighs, empties its contents into the sink next to him and pours himself a proper scotch. 

“Ellie, darling!” he feels a set of full lips wet on his cheek, red painted fingernails digging into his skin where a delicate arm is suddenly wrapped tightly around his shoulders. 

“Daphy” Eliott turns his head and smiles as politely as he can manage, “ça va?” 

“Oui, ça va, ça va” Dahné’s red lips smiles stiffly, pointed cat ears peeking out from her curly blonde hair, matching the rest of her patent leather outfit and the thick furry tail she’s got draped over her wrist along with her coat.

“Still happy to see me, are we?” she hums sarcastically, gaze shifting down to his crotch and Eliott feels his nostrils flare momentarily, blinking through a fake smile before bringing the bottle back to his lips. 

“Oh and if this one’s not paying for that, _you_ are” she snaps at Mika and turns on her six inch heels, parading to the door with a soft “Au revoir, Eliott, always a pleasure” too sickeningly sweet to really be sincere.

“So” Mika sighs, hand resting on the counter, “What happened this ti-“

“I need a phone” Eliott interrupts him, taking another swig of the bottle.

“Eliott, you can’t just-“

“Mika, seriously” Eliott rubs his eyes, doing nothing to conceal his annoyance, “I really don’t need this right now”

“Sure, you don’t need anything, do you?” Mika laughs humorlessly, shaking his head “You don’t need any _one”_

“What’s your problem?” Eliott sighs, exasperated.

“What’s _my_ problem?” Mika slams the glass onto the counter, voice suddenly raised, “What’s _your_ problem, mec?! You call me in the middle of the night, for the hundredth time by the way, and then you just-“ he stops, taking a deep breath as if to calm himself down.

“You could have at least texted me you weren’t coming. I was worried-“

“You, worried? Ha!”

“Ellie, honestly. You need to get your shit together. It’s been what, a year now since-“ 

“Fourteen months and three days” 

“Why-“ Mika tries, and Eliott ignores the tremble in his voice, “Why won’t you let me help you? Why won’t you talk to me?”

“Don’t be such a fag” 

“You know sometimes it helps talking to someone, Eliott.”

“Why does everyone want to fucking _talk_ all the time?!” Eliott shoots up from his chair, striding towards the door, bottle still in hand. 

“Eliott” Mika says as Eliott grabs the door handle to open it. He turns around to look at him, despite himself.

“She sounds sweet, though” Mika sends him a small smile, “That girl. Lulu, was it?”  

Eliott freezes, breath stuck in his chest as he sucks his lower lip in between his teeth to keep it from trembling. A moment passes between them, until Eliott swallows hard and makes himself look away, makes himself leave before Mika gets a chance to say anything else.

For the second time this morning, Eliott finds himself in an endless sea of people, pushing him around like a piece of driftwood, barely keeping afloat. He flees down the first alley he finds, throwing himself against the wall and sliding down to sit on the hard cobblestone, his face twisted in a silent scream as he finally lets the tears he’s been holding back stream down his face. 

Bringing the bottle of vodka back to his lips he swallows down his sobs, drowns them out with the help of the burning liquid. Drinks with the thirst of a desert castaway, only stopping when he’s so out of breath his chest hurts, his feet kicking helplessly as if to push himself up to the surface, spluttering and coughing and trying to catch his breath only to bring the bottle right back to his mouth and repeat the whole thing until it’s empty. Until he’s empty. 

He just wants to fucking sleep. But he needs money. And a fucking phone.

 

**

 

Eliott finds himself at a familiar doorstep, not sure how long he’s been walking around aimlessly, not sure how he even got here, his feet bringing him as if by their own will. The door is bright blue and Eliott feels sick looking at it, sways slightly and puts a supporting hand on the wall as he empties the contents of his stomach all over the door mat and his shoes.

He wipes his mouth with his t-shirt and grabs the handle. It’s locked and he doesn’t have a key. And even if he did, she probably changed the locks a long time ago anyway. 

Eliott rips off one of the silly pride pins Mika had put on his leather jacket last year under great protests, until he’d learned later that night how it worked like a charm for picking up shy, discrete, _rich_ , clients. He breaks it, using the pointed end to pick the lock, swallowing through another wave of nausea before he manages to unlock the door, thankful he could probably do this blindfolded with his hands tied behind his back by now.

He bursts into the apartment, the familiar thick smell of cigarettes and her heavy Trésor perfume hitting him like a runner’s wall, almost making him turn back. Instead, he rushes to the kitchen and vomits in the sink. 

The kitchen, unlike Lulu’s, shows no particular signs of use. No pots of fresh herbs or smell of freshly baked rolls, no wooden chopping boards or chambord coffee press. Just stained glasses and dirty dishes, and an empty fridge hosting nothing but a half-empty bottle of Chablis, which he downs in one go.

Searching the cupboards for something stronger, he finds a bottle of bourbon, welcoming the stinging burn down his throat as he steps back out into the hallway, stopping at the bathroom to take a piss and empty the cabinet for whatever leftover diet pills and sleep medicine he can find. Popping a few of each, he suddenly remembers the stash he’d kept inside his old guitar. It’s only weed, but it’s better than nothing he decides as he makes his way down to his old room, clenching the bottle in his hand a little tighter and taking a deep breath before stepping inside.

It feels a little like walking into a museum, a time warp of sorts, and even if it’s only been a little over a year, it still feels like a time long lost.

Tracing a finger along his records on the shelf down to the old record player on top of the piano he’d inherited from his father, Eliott can’t help but smile a little at the memory of his dad trying to teach him how to play Mozart’s _Apollo und Hyacinth_ before his fingers were even long enough to do a proper chord. 

Slowly he lets his fingers wander over the keys, finding an A major with the iconic B in the bass, he moves his right hand between the A major and the B major, letting the intro to _I’m not in love_ fill his ears and the memory of the last time he heard those chords stab him like a thousand tiny needles in his chest.

Shaking his head at his own reaction, Eliott crosses the room and picks up his old guitar, pulling out the bag of weed he’d hidden in there when he was still living at home and settling on the bed to roll one between bags of old clothes and boxes of stuff he barely recognizes anymore.

Rummaging around in a box marked ‘Out’ in black ink, he finds pieces of old photos he faintly remembers from his childhood. Most of the photos are of his mom, laughing and posing playfully probably at him or his sister as the photographer on one of their many picnics around town, because she couldn’t afford taking them on a real holiday. It looks like she’s cut herself out, and for a moment Eliott wonders if she’s kept the rest of the photos somewhere. Not all of them are of his mom though and Eliott’s eyes catches one particular photo, this one intact, a pair of steel blue, almost grey, eyes staring back at him, framed by thick dark brows matching a beard just as thick and even if he tries, Eliott can’t seem to take his eyes off them. He settles on the bed, head leaning against the wall as he imprints every detail of it into his brain, tapping the bottle nervously against his bottom lip, the burn of the liquid less intense with every sip but the aching in his chest remains.

 

**

 

“What are you doing here?”

Eliott is startled awake, not sure how long he’s been out. 

“Sorry, I.. I was just-“ he rubs his eyes and pushes himself up on an elbow, photo still in his hand and the bottle in the other. He looks down at himself, realizing he’s spilled at least half of its content all over himself.

“How did you get in?” 

“Mom-“

“You’re drunk”

“Not to mention high” Eliott chuckles and watches his mother’s eyes narrow in response. Her gaze shifts from his face to the photos now scattered over the bed and even if she tries to hide it, he can tell that she winces slightly.

“What are you looking at those for?” she asks, teeth clenched.

“Thought I’d get myself a nice little childhood memory” he waves the photo in his hand at her, “You owe me that much don’t you think, after all-“

“I’m going to the bathroom” she interrupts him, turning away from either him or the photo, _probably both_ , “and when I get out of there, you better be gone” she leaves the room.

Eliott just sits there for a moment, still slightly disoriented. It’s a little darker outside now, the purple and pink streaks of the setting sun looks like bruises on the pale blue sky and he can feel the buzzing numbness fading slightly, replaced by an increasing urgency to do something about it immediately. Bringing the almost empty bottle back to his lips to soothe himself, he empties it in one go and shoves the photo and the bag of weed in his pocket and gets up from the bed.

He walks out into the hall with a supporting hand on the wall, sighs inwardly at the locked bathroom door and the sound of water running in there, trying and failing to recall ever having heard his mother cry, even if she’s had plenty of reasons to do so. Passing the kitchen on the way out, he stops and notices the paper bag on the counter and her purse next to it. 

Quickly he steps back into the kitchen and picks a bottle of wine from the bag and opens the purse. He takes the three one-hundred notes from it, then decides to put one of them back, catching a glimpse of her phone in there. He hesitates for a moment, then grabs that too and leaves.

Sitting on a bench in a nearby park, it takes Eliott less time to figure out his mother’s pin code than to remember his own password for his twitter account. Assuming it would be either his or his sister’s birthday, because his mom was nostalgic like that, he’s still kind of surprised to find 2506 working, considering everything that had happened this past year. Now he’s finally managed to log in to twitter too, finding unread dm’s piling up in his inbox, a particular one from a regular client, _Master85xxx_ , standing out from the rest.

_“P &P tomorrow at 23? 1K. Usual place.” _

It was sent the day before yesterday, but Eliott knows these things can go on for days, so they might still be in search for an experienced courtesy bottom. At least it would help him sleep. 

He opens the bottle of wine, more thankful for the screw cap than he probably should be, and drinks, feeling the calming buzz slowly spread through his body again. He reaches into his pocket for another couple of pills, winces slightly when his fingers brushes over the photo. He swallows the pills down with a sip of wine, counting on the phentermine to postpone the effects of the diphenhydramine at least a couple of hours until he’s ready to go under again. 

He opens the dm and starts typing. 

 

**

 

Eliott is fighting to keep his eyes open, his whole body heavy with exhaustion but still tense, wound up and tight like a spring ready to be launched and even the solitary sound of the four knocks on the antique door in front of him echoing off the white marble floor under him feels overwhelming.

 _“Adrian_ , what a wonderful surprise!” the man in the doorway flashes a bright smile and Eliott frowns momentarily, then remembers he used the fake name Adrian Exxxett as his twitter pseud and smiles back indulgently, bracing himself against the large wooden door frame. 

He’d emptied the bottle of wine in the elevator and left it there with his dirty t-shirt, his naked chest now on display under his leather jacket, the man’s gaze raking over it approvingly.

“I’ve invited a couple of friends” the man steps to the side, welcoming Eliott inside with a warm hand on the back of his neck, “More might come later, little one, you don’t mind do you?” he whispers wetly against Eliott’s ear, handing him a white envelope.

“The more the merrier” Eliott takes the envelope and shoves it in his pocket, knows he doesn’t have to check with this one. He steps further into the hotel suite, relieved to find it’s well stocked with everything they need for the night to carry on into morning and well into night again, if necessary.

There’s other men there already, some Eliott recognizes, some he doesn’t, and by the sounds coming from behind closed doors, someone is already working in there. They’re all well dressed in crisp white shirts matching pearly white smiles, expensive watches on firm hands offering him drinks and snacks and this evenings choice of personal syringes. “Ice?” some man asks and Eliott accepts, kisses the man and lets him remove the leather jacket to locate a vein.

God he’s so fucking _tired_. 

“Such pretty hair” a third hand slides into his hair from behind, tugging at it and turning his head to receive another tongue and Eliott accepts that too, takes it with increasing hunger, greediness even, as a well-known warmth spreads inside his mouth and out to his hands, an all-consuming need to fill up the emptiness inside taking over every cell in his body.

Fingers unbutton his jeans and Eliott feels like he’s floating, light and insignificant, drifting like smoke from a stubbed out cigarette, carried across the room by something or _someone?_ Free.

_“Yes he’s a pretty one, isn’t he? Let me-“_

Eliott can feel the marble floor _or is it a table?_ cold against his back, the faces above him blurred and the sounds around him distorted, distant like a childhood memory.

There’s a flash of light _a camera?_ and it brings Eliott back to those warm summer days _another flash_ in the park _and_ _another one_ with his sister and his mom and her old polaroid. 

_“Hold his legs open, fuck yes, here, can you-“_

The feeling of the grass between his fingers where he’s lying under a tree next to his sister looking up into the branches, the sun slipping through the leaves like little pieces of glitter falling from the sky, and he likes to think it’s his dad looking down at them.

“ _I think he can take another one, that’s it, open up-“_

Eliott smiles at the distinct smell of dirty socks, but it feels so safe, right here, on the blanket, the light breeze caressing his skin as he lets out a breathy exhale and starts counting the leaves.

 _Inhale._ One, two, three… The sun is setting and Eliott is still counting leaves. _Exhale._ Thirty six, thirty seven, thirty eight... Has to count all of them before the light is gone and the night takes over. _Inhale._ Fifty two, fifty three.... 

 _“Adrian?”_  

In the fading daylight, the leaves are forming an image he recognizes. A face. Her face. _Exhale._

_“Adrian?”_

Seventy eight, seventy nine... Eliott feels a sharp sting from a branch across his face, but he pushes through, keeps on counting. _Inhale_.

_“Okay, he’s breathing”_

Ninety four, ninety five… She looks beautiful. Her hair, a deep lush brown, sweeped back and away from her face, perfectly complementing her golden skin and those bright blue eyes. _Exhale._  

_“I think he’s out, man. Do we need to call 911?”_

_“No just call a cab-“_

 

**

 

The distinct smell of dirty socks is replaced by one of new leather seats and Eliott has to start over counting. _Inhale._ One, two three…

“Dude, where d’you wanna go? That guy paid, but he didn’t say where you’re going” 

The sun is gone now, and it’s hard to see the leaves, hard to tell them apart. _Exhale._ Thirteen, fourteen... Eliott feels a punch to his shoulder and blinks against the dim yellow light flashing over his face rhythmically. He’s moving, but he feels stuck. _Inhale._

“Back, I just wanna go back-“ he murmurs against glass.

 _Exhale._ One, two, three… He starts over, he’s moving, but he’s going in circles, like those train tracks at Le Petit, moving aimlessly, hopelessly, until it stops. Until he’s pulled out, the familiar feeling of cold concrete under him. He wants to sleep, but he keeps moving. _Inhale._ One, two, three…

Crawling. Stumbling. Running. Falling. _Exhale._ One, two, three… he starts over.

 _Inhale._ It hurts, but he pushes through. Until his legs can’t carry him anymore. Until he sees it. _Exhale._  

A yellow door in the distance. It’s only a few hundred feet, but it feels like the longest distance he’d ever had to run, feels like he’ll barely make it. He presses the buzzer and his legs finally give out under him.

The lingering smell of socks and carseats and cold concrete is replaced by something else. Something sweet.

Apples and elderflower, and Eliott reaches for the leaves. She looks beautiful and it feels like he can finally breathe again. _Inhale._

“Here, put your arm around me, that’s it, and another step. One, two, three... you can do it, Eliott.”

Something sweet, something safe. Cinnamon? _Cardamom._ Close enough.

_Exhale._

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW's for this chapter: excessive drinking, prescription drug abuse, sex while on drugs (meth amphetamine, poppers), mentions of syringes, dubious consent, implied gangbang (not explicit), objectification, blackout


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow this took FOREVER lol! 
> 
> Please beware of added tags (trigger warnings in end notes).
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's asked about this story in the comments or on tumblr and anyone who's still reading, I absolutely love writing this verse but knowing that someone is excited about the story is really what keeps me going so THANK YOU <3
> 
> If you’d like visuals for this fic, this is how I imagine [Lulu](https://skamsnake.tumblr.com/post/185541343822/hey-you-i-really-really-dont-wanna-annoy-you) and [Eliott](https://skamsnake.tumblr.com/post/187585685032/ch-5-of-lulu-is-up) in this verse <3
> 
> A special thank you to my gc's of gorgeous supportive people as well as a *very* special thank you to the incredible hannahbanana8816 for the beautiful hc's, I hope you'll like this chapter bb! <3<3
> 
> Glossary  
> NIR - Numéro d'Inscription au Répertoire (French social security number)  
> SSRI - Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitors (typically used as antidepressants)  
> PrEP - Pre-Exposure Prophylaxis (specific use of antiviral drugs for HIV/AIDS prevention)

 

“Yes, airways are clear. He’s shivering pretty bad though”

Eliott hears a soft voice speak in the distance. It sounds a little worried, agitated, “I already told you he doesn’t _want_ to go to the hospital, I _tried_!” 

He feels a warm, light pressure across his forehead, “No fever, I don’t think. _Yes_ I’m getting him water. I’m not an _idiot_ , Yann! Hang on-” the voice sounds frustrated and scared and there’s nothing more Eliott wants but to comfort the source of it, but he can barely open his eyes let alone speak right now.

“Eliott, I need to get this off you” he feels a tug at his sleeve and lets himself be maneuvered first onto one side and then the other, fingers gently brushing the hair away from his face, “There you go, it’s okay I’ve got you”

The soft voice is soothing like a blanket around him and Eliott feels his breathing slowly calming down, at least until another wave of nausea washes over him and he leans out over the edge of the bed and tries to unload his already empty stomach in the bucket on the floor. 

“Yeah, I know. I’m checking him now” 

He’s carefully rolled over on his side again, his jeans gently peeled off of his shaking legs. Can’t recall the last time he was touched so tenderly.

“Intact” he hears a whisper and a sigh, thinking it sounds a lot like relief, “No bruises either, only a few on his hips”

Eliott is gently rolled over onto his back again and that’s when he sees it. An undefinable object hanging above his head. Small but still big enough, he assesses, to do considerable damage if it fell down on his face. 

He kind of wishes it would. Kind of wishes it would fall down and crack his skull open, wishes that the trailing succulent cascading down the sides of it would just reach out and choke the life out of him. He would do it himself if he could, if he wasn’t so goddamn _useless_. Instead he keeps his hands occupied holding Lulu’s. 

“Don’t leave me, please” he manages, tightening the grip around her hand when he feels it slip through his fingers.

“I’m just getting you some more water, I’ll be back-“

“Please don’t leave me, please, _please_ don’t leave me” he starts crying, fingers blindly searching for purchase, searching for the edge to cling onto so he doesn’t fall into the void, “I can’t do this, _please_ ” his sobs suddenly interrupted by uncontrollable shivering, almost as from an outside force, shaking like a leaf in a thunderstorm, desperately clutching it’s hold on a branch waiting to be ripped off and hurled into the night and there’s nothing he wants more right now than to disappear with it.

“Shh… shh.. It’s okay I’m here, I’m not going anywhere” he hears, his eyes filled to the brim with tears as he feels a warm chest against his back, an arm coming around him to pull him into a soothing embrace, “Breathe with me Eliott, come on, inhale, one, two three… exhale, that’s it. Inhale, one two, three…” 

Eliott tries to follow, tries to let the oxygen travel through his aching body to his helpless limbs all the way to his trembling fingertips as they lace together with Lulu’s right over his heart.

“I’m here” she whispers, “You’re not alone anymore”

He closes his eyes, fresh tears spilling into his eyelashes and down over his cheeks, cleansing and quietly mourning like raindrops on a blood stained curb. 

Feeling his breathing slowly begin to calm down to the sound of Lulu’s soft humming behind him, instantly recognizing the first notes of _I’m not in love_ , he finally lets go. Lets the tears flow freely to the soft sound of her whispering into his hair.

“Big boys _do_ cry, big boys do cry”

 

** 

 

Eliott jerks awake, panting, _panicking_ , wishing this dream would never end, wanting to savour the scents of elderflower and apples and the sensation of soft fabric against his cheek, knowing it’ll all vanish as soon as he opens his eyes. 

So he stays like this, eyes closed shut in agony as an overwhelming sense of loss washes over him, startled by a sudden light pressure from a finger wiping his tears away.

“Hey, it’s ok. You’re safe. No one’s going to hurt you here. You’re gonna be alright, Eliott” 

“Lulu, Lulu” he breathes out, hands searching blindly for hers because he still can’t find the strength to open his eyes.

“I’m here, I’m here” he feels another hand on his cheek, cupping his face and her forehead against his own, “I’m right here with you, Eliott” and it feels like he might actually breathe again. Maybe not right now, but _some_ day.

The touch is so comforting that Eliott dares to open an eye, wincing at the sharp stinging pain striking like a lightening through his head, but the touch is soothing and Eliott chases it, leans into it. He can feel her hand coming back around his head, lifting it gently.

“Eliott, I need you to drink something” her voice is soft, almost angelic and even though it hurts, he manages to open both eyes and finds Lulu’s, deep blue and filled with concern. He wants to say something, wants to thank her, but all that comes out is the sputtering sound of a violent coughing fit that makes his entire body ache as he curls in on himself.  

“Here, it’s gonna make you feel better” she says, her hand cradling his head against her chest as she brings a glass to his lips, pleading when he doesn’t react, “Just a little bit, Eliott, just a little bit _for_ _me_ ”

And that seems to be what Eliott needs to force his dry lips to part the tiny bit needed for him to take a small sip, shuddering as the tempered water stings all the way down his throat.

“Please don’t leave me” he begs quietly, his cracked voice barely above a whisper and he feels himself drift off again into the silent shadows, soothing and scary in equal measure.

“I won’t, Eliott. You are not alone anymore, I promise” 

 

**

 

“Eliott, can you try this? It’s been eighteen hours and I don’t know when was the last time you ate” 

Eliott opens his eyes slowly to a blurry white _Romance_ printed on grey in front of him. He feels surprisingly warm and notices the shivering has stopped, realising there’s a heating pad under him and thick socks covering his feet.

He tries to open his mouth, tries to swallow the warm liquid that’s offered to him on a spoon but vomits after the first mouthful, as if his body is resisting the nutrients it needs to start healing.

“Okay, just water for now then” he lets Lulu guide the glass back to his lips, the cleansing liquid burning less with every tiny sip. 

“Please don’t leave me” he whispers as he lets sleep take over once again. 

 

**

 

Eliott blinks against the yellow light streaming in through the window, can’t tell whether the sun is setting or rising, if it’s the beginning or the end of something, just that for some reason it feels significant.

He turns his head to the side and sees her. Lying on her side turned towards him with her hands tucked under her cheek, small sighs leaving her slightly parted lips with every slow exhale. The golden backlight makes her look ethereal, unreal almost, and he doesn’t dare reach out and touch her out of fear that it’s all an illusion, that she’ll disappear like a fata morgana.

“Hey” she whispers and Eliott’s breath is stuck in his chest, too consumed with her beauty to even realise she’d woken up too.

“Hey” he tries, voice hoarse and unrecognizable. 

“How are you feeling?” she frowns slightly, reaching up to his cheek but Eliott pulls back by reflex.

“What time is it?” he murmurs and she lifts her head to look somewhere behind him.

“Half past ten, I think” she smiles.

“How long was I out?” he swallows, lowering his gaze.

“Two days and some” she says quietly, “you must be starving” 

“I should go” Eliott pushes himself up on his elbow, only to immediately fall back on the bed, dizzy and nauseous. 

“I think you should stay” she says, brushing a greasy strand of hair away from his face. 

“No, really” Eliott coughs, once again trying and failing to get up from the bed, “It’s better for the both of us if I just go-”

“Eliott” Lulu grabs his hand in a tight hold, “For two days now you’ve been begging me in your sleep to not leave you, and now you’re just gonna leave _me_?” 

Eliott feels tears press behind his eyes, trying to avoid her insistent gaze as he falls back on the bed.

“I’m sorry, about everything” he squeezes his eyes shut and turns away from her.

“Don’t worry, let’s forget about it” she leans into him, her hand coming around him.

“We can’t” Eliott starts crying, covering his face with his hands, “I don’t know what to do, I don’t know how to control it, it’s killing me”

“You don’t know how to control what?” she speaks softly into his neck, her hand brushing slowly up and down his arm.

“I mean, sometimes I get like this” he takes a deep breath, “Sometimes I sleep for a whole week. Sometimes I won’t do anything. Sometimes I’ll be excited about anything and everything, fuck around with anyone and everyone” Eliott exhales,  his whole body trembling with sobs, “I don’t know how to handle it, and I sure as hell don’t want you to have to handle it” 

“I think I’ve handled worse” Lulu says, and Eliott turns around to face her.

“I’m being serious, Lulu” he lets his eyes meet hers.

“So am I” she says, eyes locked on his.

“I make the people around me live a living hell” he shakes his head, “I’ll shut you out, shout at you, blame you for everything” he pauses and she waits, lets him take the time he needs to speak, to find the words.

“You know, I’m supposed to take medications for it? Most times I won’t. And just like everybody else, eventually you’ll want to check that I do. And it will piss me off. So eventually, I will lie to you. I will tell you that I took it, when really I didn’t. I don’t know why, but I tend to do that when I feel good” he swallows hard, tears still streaming down his face, “And.. and I feel good with you.”

“I feel good with you” she says calmly, wiping another tear away from his cheek.

“And I don’t- I don’t want that to change. Except it _will_ , Lulu” he grabs her hand and looks down, “It will change because of me, and I don’t want that. I _don’t_. I don’t want to scare you or hurt you. I don’t want you to suffer because of me-”

“Hey! You don’t know that” she interrupts him, squeezing his hand as her eyes seek his, “I’m not flawless either, I might say stupid things too. I literally kicked you out because of some dumb joke-“

“I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know what I was thinking, I guess I panicked-”

“I know. I panicked too” she says and their eyes meet again.

“You did? Why?” Eliott frowns slightly.

“I.. it’s hard for me to talk about” she lowers her gaze for a moment and takes a deep breath, “I’m still- It’s still early days, and the hormones…” she runs a hand through her hair, and suddenly Eliott can tell she’s nervous, “The hormones can fuck you up a bit, my sex drive… well there hadn’t really been any for a while. And for the first time in a long time… I don’t know, I wanted to. I wanted _you_. It was a scary” she turns to look up into the ceiling.

“I didn’t know” Eliott says, his eyes tracing the outline of her face, her pointed nose, her soft lip that she’s biting nervously.

“I realised it was too soon. That I was rushing things, and I don’t want to rush things, you know?” she turns towards him and Eliott bites his lip too.

“Yea- yeah sure, I know” he nods.

“A long time ago, I decided to just live it day by day, you know? And if a day got too much, then just hour by hour. And if an hour got too much, then minute by minute. Do you think that’s stupid?” she asks, smiling nervously.

“No, not at all” Eliott blinks and shakes his head, “It makes sense. I should probably do the same” he shrugs.

“Yeah?” her smile widens, “So starting today we’ll live it day by day? Lulu and Eliott, minute by minute? And all we have to worry about is the next minute” 

Eliott looks at her, feeling a sudden gratefulness wash over him, “And what are we going to do the next minute?” he accepts, a fleeting smile across his lips.

“The next minute…” she smiles mischievously then purses her lips and raises an eyebrow in mock thought, “The next minute we’re gonna… have lunch in bed and watch Avengers, you in?” she laughs and pushes herself up off the bed.

“Depends on what we’re having” Eliott chuckles quietly, earning himself a half-hearted punch to the shoulder as she climbs off the bed and makes her way to the doorway, quickly turning back towards him. 

“You’re handsome when you laugh” she tilts her head to the side and disappears out into the hall and Eliott swallows hard, his eyes fixed on the doorway where she just left.

 

**

 

“Why tuesday?” Lulu circles the tattoo on his knee, and Eliott can tell she’s frowning slightly. 

He’s in a pair of soft black cotton shorts, thick socks to match and one of Lulu’s long sleeved t-shirts that says _Lover_ in red on the back. They’ve been watching Avengers movies all day in bed, _or couch since Lulu insisted they’d have to make the bed,_ and Eliott’s been drifting in and out of sleep, comforted by Lulu’s excited voice as she explains all the little easter eggs in the movies Eliott had missed, comforted by her mere presence next to him on the couch and her head resting heavily in his lap.

Eliott looks down at her, at the side of her face, her cheekbone and the line of her jaw, her long lashes when she blinks. His gaze drifts down over her shoulder and out to her hand, at her delicate fingers and the _Mardi_ printed in black ink sitting there right under her fingertips as an inerasable reminder just at the top of his knee.

“Tuesdays my sister took ballet” he speaks lowly, eyes searching back to the tv to distract himself from whatever this conversation is making him feel, “My mom always went with her” 

“Ok _ay_ ” she looks over her shoulder, eyebrows raised in confusion but smiling nonetheless, “I’ve always wanted a tattoo”  

“But you’re afraid it’ll hurt?” he asks, eyes meeting hers momentarily.

“Eh no?!” she frowns offended, then smiles and shakes her head, “Maybe someday I will, but right now I’m saving for something else” she leans back into his lap, gazing up at the ceiling.

“What do you wanna get?” Eliott urges her on, wanting her to keep talking, imagining playing with her hair while she talks, even if he doesn’t dare as much as reach out and touch it right now.

“Hmm I don’t know” she stretches her arms over her head, “Something with flowers I think? Or maybe my zodiac sign, _Taurus_ ” she turns slightly so she’s fully facing his front, placing her hand on his chest right above his heart and Eliott freezes momentarily, “I like this one too, _life_ ” she beams up at him, and Eliott can’t help but wonder when she noticed it. 

“Look closer” he says, reaching down to pull up the grey shirt and looks away momentarily, almost like he’s embarrassed about the sudden intimacy.

“Oh I didn’t even notice, clever!” she smiles, “I get it”

“Not sure you do” Eliott bites his trembling lip and Lulu pauses, pushes herself up on an elbow and turns to look him straight in the eye.

“You don’t think I understand?” she says, voice warm but firm, “You don’t think I understand what it feels like to live a lie? I mean, _look_ at me” she says, gesturing down at herself. 

Eliott opens his mouth to speak, embarrassed, but she puts her hand on his and continues.

“Trust me Eliott, I’ve lived more than half my life a lie. Trying to be someone I wasn’t. Trying to be Lucas” she says, and there’s a sadness in her voice Eliott hasn’t heard before. 

“I lied to my parents, my friends who I thought would abandon me if they knew the truth, but the worst part? I lied to _myself_ , Eliott. Told myself it was just a phase, that I would grow out of it. So I don’t think I need anyone to lecture me on playing pretend”

“You’re right, I’m sorry” he says quietly, feeling like an idiot.

“It’s okay, you owe me one” she winks and squeezes his hand, pushing herself up off the couch “and I think I’m gonna catch that one in _right now_ \- I’m drawing you a bath!” 

“And how is a bath a favor I’m doing _you_?” Eliott chuckles. 

“I mean, have you _smelled_ yourself?!” she laughs and disappears out into the hallway.

 

**

 

Careful to avoid the mirror, Eliott had walked into the bathroom and slipped out of his clothes and into the water while Lulu turned her back in what she claimed was ‘common courtesy’ even if the moments when Eliott felt most naked with her, he’d been fully clothed.

The water feels nice around him, warm and cleansing, soothing his sore muscles and soaking his dry skin. It smells good too, like lavender and lemons, and even if it’s still the tiniest bathtub he’s ever seen, even if he can’t stretch out completely and has to choose between having his feet or his knees under water, there’s nowhere else he’d rather be right now. No one else he’d rather be _with_ right now.

“Okay, chin up” Lulu instructs softly next to him, pouring water over his hair to rinse out the soap, careful not get it in his eyes, “You have really pretty hair, you know that?”

Eliott sighs into it, feeling the water run through his hair and down his neck, a little embarrassed that he couldn’t find the strength to wash his hair himself but grateful that she offered to help. She’s laid out soft towels too and a clean pair of sweats and a t-shirt.

“I have to go back to work tomorrow” she says, dapping a warm wet cloth across his chest and Eliott’s eyes widen, his hand coming up to clutch Lulu’s in a tight hold.

“It’s okay. You just stay here and watch movies. Read, play the piano, whatever you’d like and I’ll bring home some dinner, okay?” 

Eliott breathes out and nods quietly, slowly releasing his grip around her hand. 

“I’ll get you some proper underwear too on my way from work” she wipes the water away from his temple.

“Let me pay you for all of this” Eliott looks up at her.

“Absolutely not” she gets up from where she was kneeling on the floor and dries her hands in one of the towels.

“Seriously Lulu, you saved me, _twice-_ ”

“And one day you’ll save me right back” she leans down and taps his nose with her index finger, then walks out of the bathroom, “Now get dressed, I’m making the bed”

“Hey, why do you always walk off like that?!” Eliott shouts after her, then leans back and closes his eyes again with a small smile.

 

**

 

Elliot wakes up to the well known feeling of warm light streaming in through the window, no idea how long he’s been out. No idea when was the last time he slept this well either. 

He stretches and reaches over next to him, but the bed is empty. He turns to his other side, startled when he finds the photo he took from his childhood home now staring at him from the nightstand, a post-it note stuck to it. Breath stuck in his chest, he reaches over to grab it and read the note.

 

 _Didn’t want to wake you up._  
_Took your jacket to the dry cleaners._  
_Be home soon,_  
_Lylla_

_PS: You look cute when you sleep_

 

There’s another tiny drawing of Rocket snoring and drooling on the pillow and it makes him smile a little. He moves the note to cover the face on the photo, then removes it entirely and puts the photo back down on the nightstand, finding the money he had earned the other night on there too, realizing she must have found both when she emptied his jacket pockets.

He sits there for a while, eyes drifting from the photo on the nightstand to the note in his hand, feeling his nostrils flare and his heart flutter in turn before deciding to get up and make himself some coffee. 

Aimlessly, Eliott walks around in her apartment, coffee cup in hand, restlessly trying to find something to keep himself occupied. Picking up a book to read only to put it back down minutes later. Sitting down by the piano only to get up the moment his hands touch the keys. He even tries watching a movie, but it’s not the same without her. 

Searching for something comforting, he walks over to her dresser, Lulu’s grey _Romance_ shirt hanging out of the top drawer left half-open, indicating she’d been in a hurry this morning. He brings it to his face and inhales deeply, taking in the scent of green apple and elderflower, trying to take in the fact that he’s actually back here, that he’s actually _safe_. That he actually gets to have this, even if just for a moment. Even if he doesn’t deserve it.

He puts the shirt on and when he reaches out to shut the drawer, he notices the floral pattern and the golden _‘Lulu’s Lovebox’_ down there and even though he knows he shouldn’t, even though he knows it’s private - something inside him wants to, _has to_ take a look inside that box, needs to know her better. In a moment of weakness he grabs it and moves to the bed. 

Gently, he takes the lid off and looks inside, first finding a book with the title _Girl Sex 101_ printed on the front cover along with something he recognizes as a sex toy in there, a vibrating wand of sorts that he remembers from back when he was still with Lucille. Carefully, he takes both out and places them on the bed next to him, flipping through a couple of pages and making a mental note to definitely read that later.

There’s a soft piece of floral printed fabric, silk maybe, in the box and underneath it he finds another small book with Marvel print on it and when he opens it, a small piece of paper falls out that Eliott can tell has been scrunched up and then straightened back out. It’s a drawing of a racoon and an otter under the covers smiling at each other, a small heart drawn over their heads and a short text in handwritten letters underneath.

_You look cute when you sleep._

Eliott smiles, ignoring the lump in his throat and even though he kind of wants to take it, to keep it close always, he knows it’s not his to take. That all he can do is hope she’ll one day draw one for him too. 

A little reluctant, he opens the front page of the small book to put the drawing back and reads _Lulu’s diary_ on the first page in the same handwritten letters. He puts the drawing back inside it and the book back in the box, finding a heavy brown sealed envelope just under it. He’s seen enough brown envelopes in his life to know what’s in it and without hesitation he reaches over to the nightstand, grabs the thousand euros and slides them inside the envelope, then puts it back in the box too. 

Inside the box he also finds a couple of old, grained family photos, a much younger Lulu looking back at him through a clearly vintage camera lens, eyes just as deep blue and beautiful as now, but lifeless in a way that almost makes them unrecognizable. He thinks about his tattoo and Lulu’s words, feels guilty that he thought she wouldn’t understand him. Feels guilty that he didn’t tell her everything. 

His gaze falls on a photo that looks a little more recent, Lulu smiling in a white summer dress with delicate lace sleeves, standing next to a man with the same kind blue eyes as hers. They’re standing in front of a high school, at what Eliott assumes is graduation. They both look so happy and for some reason, getting this glimpse into Lulu’s family life makes Eliott feel even more guilty. Guilty, for invading her privacy like this but even more so for wanting it to be _his_.

Filled with shame and regret, Eliott puts all the stuff back in the box and the box back in the dresser, forces himself to pick up the photo on the nightstand and stare at it until his eyes burn with tears. Forces himself to the bathroom mirror and finally look at himself; at his eyes, framed by pale bruises over the brink of his nose and across his cheek bones, eyes bloodshot and dull staring back at him with well-known disgust. At his lips, swollen and bitten and barely recognizable, lips that have spoken more lies than they have sucked dick, lips that have done either more than he’d care to admit. Hair-

_“You have pretty hair, you know that?”_

He squeezes his eyes shut, wanting to snap out of it. 

_“Pretty hair, pretty boy”_

Not wanting to associate Lulu’s words with words he’s winced at before, but his brain betrays him.

_“Such pretty hair. Yes he’s a pretty one, isn’t he? Here let me-”_

He gasps as he slides his hand into his hair, pulling it as hard as he can, pulling it until tears start to stream down his face.

 _“You’re useless, Eliott. A pretty face won’t change that-”_ He wants to scream, maybe he does, _“Pretty hair and pouty lips aren’t going to bring food on the table now are they-”_ and he wants to scream so loud he can’t hear anything but the high pitched sound of his own voice as it cracks, over and over again. 

Blinded by tears he pulls open cabinets and drawers and digs into baskets, frantically searching for something to drown out the sounds, something to numb him from the world around him, the world that doesn’t want him anyway. Desperate when he doesn’t find what he’s looking for. Determined when he finds something _else_. 

With the scissor in one hand, he brings the photo to his face with the other, makes himself stare at it until it hurts so much he considers for a brief moment what would give him the fastest relief; cutting the photo in pieces or cutting out his eyes. 

He lets the photo slip through his fingers and fall into the sink and looks down at his wrist, the fact that Lulu would be the one to find him the only thing keeping him from bringing the scissor to his skin. Instead, he slides his fingers into his hair again, pulls at it and cuts. 

Cuts until large chunks of hair fall into the sink and cover up the photo, cover up whatever thoughts it’s bringing out, cuts until there’s no more hair to grab a hold of, no more hair to control him by. Cuts until everything goes quiet. Until all he can hear is his own silent sobs as he falls back down onto the cold tile and the scissor slips out of his hand on the floor.

God he’s just so fucking _tired_.

“Eliott! Eliott! What did you do?! Are you okay?! Eliott!” he hears in the distance.

 

**

 

Three days. Three days she doesn’t leave his side for more than twenty-some minutes at a time. 

Eliott knows because he counts every single one of them, minute by minute, even if he spends most of them sleeping, trying to shut out the world. The world that doesn’t want him in it anymore, if it ever did. But for some reason it feels like _Lulu_ does. He knows, because whenever he makes his way to the bathroom, he notices she’s covered up the mirror with the floral printed fabric he recognizes from the box and the scissor is gone. So are the knives in the kitchen.

She's made sure he has clean underwear too, that he drinks and eats every once in a while. Sometimes she talks to him, tells him about her day or about something she’s read. Most of the time he doesn’t answer. But she holds him nonetheless. Every night when he closes his eyes. Every morning when he opens them. Every time he starts crying again.

“Eliott, I got you something today” she says on the fourth day.

He’s been staring up at the ceiling for hours. At the succulent in the macramé hanger, counting every tiny leaf on the stems. For some reason plants have always calmed him down. 

He turns his head and looks at her.

“I borrowed it from a friend” she smiles from the door opening, waving an object at him that Eliott recognizes as an electric razor. “Let’s go” she says, and since nothing in her voice indicates that he’s got much of a choice, he decides he might as well get up and get it over with.

She’s placed one of the green kitchen chairs on the bathroom floor and points at it for him to sit. Eliott takes a seat, relieved to find the mirror is still covered. 

Carefully, she cuts what little is left of his hair with the razor until it’s all short and even. 

“Great choice, Eliott! Really brings out your eyes” she winks and brushes her hand over his trimmed hair, “Mmh feels good too, don’t you wanna see?” she takes his hand, slowly removing the fabric from the mirror.

Eliott gets up from his seat and Lulu moves to stand behind him, resting her head on his shoulder. He leans against the sink as he looks up at himself in the mirror.

“What do you think?” she says, and Eliott can tell she smiles at him in the mirror out of the corner of his eye, “Don’t you look great?”

“I look like a selfish asshole” he sighs.

“Well that’s not what _I_ see” she says joyfully, caressing his shaved head, “I see a boy, who’s managed to make a very grumpy girl into a very happy girl” she grins and it feels like they’re both holding their breath for a moment. Then their eyes meet in the mirror and Eliott rolls his eyes and smiles too.

“Oh my god you’re so _corny!_ ” he bursts out laughing and so does she, tickling him in a sudden ruthless attack and he chases her out the hallway and into the kitchen, cornering her against the kitchen counter, offering her no escape. 

“Please, Eliott! Please!” she begs, laughing, holding up both hands in defence. Eliott stops for a moment, taking in the sight of her, shoulders tense and hands guarded in anticipation but laughing freely, fearlessly, and instead of tickling her back he pulls her into a tight hug, that surprises himself as much as it does her.

“Thank you” he whispers into her hair and she hugs him back.

They stay like that for a while, quietly breathing together, arms and heartbeats interlocked and Eliott’s never felt this connected to anyone, this connected to himself, before.

“I think…” she whispers, hesitantly, “I think we should go and visit my doctor tomorrow, will you do that for me?” she asks, and Eliott hugs her closer, silently nodding into her hair.

 

** 

 

“How often do you get tested?” Eliott asks, trying to repress the moan that threatens to slip out with the first spoonful of the strawberry-rhubarb sorbet Lulu insisted they’d get after their visit to the clinic. 

“See, I _told_ you!” Lulu points at his ice cream cup triumphantly and smiles wide, moaning just as loudly at her own spoonful. 

“I don’t know, I go see Imane every three-four months?” she continues, balancing on unsteady feet on whatever curbs and ledges she can find on their path and Eliott rolls his eyes at her ankles and how soon she seems to have forgotten how they ended up here in the first place. 

“I’m on PreP and use protection, so not that often I guess” 

The doctor at the anonymous clinic near the hospital, an old friend of Lulu’s as it turned out, had been nice and professional. Eliott had noticed she had kind eyes and for some reason he immediately felt comfortable with her. 

“Don’t worry, Imane is very discrete” Lulu had whispered in the waiting room and Eliott had squeezed her hand as they got up from their seat.

The testing itself took less than ten minutes, but long enough for Eliott to build up the courage to ask about the prescription he assumed was still registered in his name.

“I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you for your NIR in that case” she had smiled and Eliott felt weirdly appreciative of how much she seemed to value his privacy. She’d then proceeded to look up his file and renew his prescription for the cocktail of mood stabilizers and SSRIs and antipsychotics he’d grown to love and hate over the years. 

“You know, we also have therapists here that-“

“Thanks, I’m good” Eliott had cut her off with a polite smile.

They’d picked up his prescriptions before getting ice cream on their walk back to the apartment and Eliott feels surprisingly optimistic in a way he hasn’t in weeks, even months maybe. 

“Why do you do it? Work?” Eliott asks, turning his head towards her, “Your parents never loved you enough?” he teases, knowing full well she must have been asked that before. At least that seems to be what everybody outside their line of work assume.

“Good one” she smiles, sucking lightly on the spoon and Eliott tries not to stare. 

“I don’t know, I like it? It’s flexible work hours, it pays well. I’ve gotten to know some wonderful people, some people that I’ve even grown to love-“

“Love?!” Eliott chuckles, sceptical.

“I’ll have you know, I love a lot of fellow beings” she says, suddenly sounding serious, “Clients, co-workers, friends and family. Neighbors. Dogs and bees, and beautiful boys” she smiles smugly, “I love as much as I possibly can, you should try it” she locks eyes with him and smiles, and Eliott can’t take his eyes off her.

“Do you love me?” he blurts out, stuffing his mouth full of ice cream a minute too late. 

She stops and looks at him with a wry smile and Eliott can’t tell if it’s a look of confusion or curiosity. 

Then she runs off, giggling and cheering him on.

Eliott chases after her, laughing too. Doesn’t really see anything but Lulu’s yellow skirt, fluttering in the wind in front of him. Doesn’t notice the tiny raindrops falling around him, on his face, as he runs through the streets of Paris with her. Doesn’t notice the change of scenery around them, the green vegetation on the walls, the old tracks under his feet.

Doesn’t notice anything until she stops, twirling in the rain soaked through and laughing, only now recognizing the entrance to the tunnel he knows like the back of his hand.

“Well there’s shelter here…” she smiles and points to the tunnel of Le Petit Ceinture, “that is, if you’re _afraid_ of the rain” she teases and then stops, holding her hands up almost like she’s challenging him to come catch her.

“I’m not afraid” Eliott smiles and walks up to her, slowly lacing their fingers together. Closing his eyes, he waits for her to make the next move. 

“I do love you, Eliott, a lot in fact” she pulls him in, leaving him breathless when her lips brush against his cheek. 

“But boyfriends come and go, friends are forever” she whispers against his ear, “and I can’t lose you again” she hugs him close, and Eliott hugs her closer.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter trigger warnings: blackout, depressive episode, relived trauma, suicidal thoughts
> 
> Oh, and I recently finished Euphoria btw - you think I was sobbing watching Jules dance to ‘I’m not in love’??????? Sorcery is what it is!
> 
> Anyways, thank you so much for reading! Please leave a kudos or a comment if you enjoyed, it means the world <3

**Author's Note:**

> I'm skamsnake on Tumblr, come say hi <3


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